Your Job Here Is Not Done

In 1990, during a severe asthma attack, I drove my three little girls through a whiteout to the hospital, with my five-year-old holding my hand and coaching my breathing the whole way. Then I died. In this episode I share what I saw, the voice that told me my job wasn't done, and the promise about two little boys who hadn't been born yet. If you're struggling right now, this one is for you. Your job isn't done either.

If you need someone to talk to, call or text 988, the Suicide and Crisis Lifeline.